


5/01/2019: Bookworm

by pop_incognito



Series: 365 Drabbles [5]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Reading, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Sort Of, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 16:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pop_incognito/pseuds/pop_incognito
Summary: Laxus finds a new hobby, Freed is happy to indulge.





	5/01/2019: Bookworm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing a 365 drabble challenge, and this for January 5! This is the first Fairy Tail fic I've written since I was about sixteen, so forgive me. I just love these two so much. The book that Freed is reading I imagine, in-universe, being some sort of story anthology by famous mages about their adventures. What he's actually reading are some short stories by an author named Paul Jennings. The stories quoted and/or mentioned are 'Grandfather's Gift', 'The Mouth Organ', and 'No is Yes'. They're quite interesting reads, if anyone can be bothered finding them. Hope everyone enjoys this!

The lights in the attic are still on when Laxus finally stumbles home from the Guild Hall, and he climbs the stairs to the top floor with a sense of intoxicated curiosity, wondering who would still be awake at this time of night. He finds Freed wedged into the corner of the old couch, his feet propped up on an old box of Sorcerer Weekly magazines with the Thunder God Tribe splashed over their covers. Evergreen thinks they don’t know that she hoards them, but all three of them – Laxus included – like to flip through them when bouts of nostalgia hit. However, Freed appears to have dragged the box over for the sole purpose of using it as a footstool, thoroughly engrossed in the slim, hand-bound book he has in his hands instead.

A cold cup of tea is perched precariously by Freed’s elbow on the arm, heating runes dotting the air to ward off the autumn chill circling the rafters, and his coat is haphazardly thrown over the back of the couch. Freed’s hair is untied, loose strands curling around his collar and tumbling over his shoulders, glinting an ethereal green in the flickering of the naked lightbulb swinging above his head. Laxus stares at him with an undoubtably sappy and lovestruck look on his face, curse Cana and her ability to get people drinking with her. He loves his mate enough to not get all gushy at the mere sight of him.

Freed is reading aloud to himself, and Laxus at first thinks that Freed must be practising new spells, until his brain catches up to his ears and he realises that Freed is reading some sort of story, his gentle voice filling the entire room. Laxus is quite captivated, sliding down the doorjamb to sprawl on the floor and listen.

“-That night, I dreamed more dreams about trees. But this time, it was lemon trees. Or, should I say, one lemon tree. A voice seemed to call me. It wanted me to go to the large lemon tree in the garden. The voice inside my head told me to go out into the night, and pick a lemon.” Freed reads with practised ease, the way a parent might read to a young child, his voice smooth and full of shifting tones to set the story flowing. “I cried out and sat up in bed. The cupboard door had swung open. The fox’s glass eyes glinted in the moonlight. I thought it moved – it seem to sigh gently.”

Clearly, Freed is halfway through whatever he is reading, and Laxus struggles to follow along – something about a dead fox who is brought back to life with magic lemons, he thinks – but he doesn’t care, so enraptured in his drunken state by the lilt of Freed reading that Freed could be reading mathematical formula aloud and Laxus would find it interesting. In the middle of a sentence, Freed suddenly stops, his head jerkin up, and he locks eyes with Laxus across the short distance between them. Laxus realises too late that he had verbally reacted to whatever Freed had just said.

“Good evening, Laxus,” Freed says quietly, seeming to be a little embarrassed that Laxus had seen him reading to himself as if there was someone else in the room with him. Laxus knows that Freed often reads aloud so that he doesn’t lose his place. It’s quite an endearing trait. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s morning,” Laxus grumbles, sure he remembers the clock in the hall striking midnight an hour or two before he left. He lets out a sudden burp and blinks in shock, which causes a small hint of laughter to flicker across Freed’s face before he tries to reign the emotion in. Laxus, scratching his belly and wiping his mouth, knee-walks across the room and clambers up onto the couch beside Freed, who lets out a yelp and barely manages to create a rune barrier to catch his cup as it and its stone cold contents head for a bitter end on the unwaxed floorboards below. “Sorry,” Laxus mutters, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Wasn’t watching.” He grins lopsidedly when Freed shakes his head fondly and sets the teacup out of harm’s reach. Laxus twines his fingers into the shiny strands of Freed’s hair. “Can ya keep reading? I like it.”

It’s Freed’s turn to blink in shock, and then he nods silently, and raises an arm in invitation. Laxus takes it, sprawling sideways on the cramped couch to lay his head in Freed’s lap, the arm draping along Laxus’ side to twine their fingers together as Freed repositions the book slightly. “How about I start another one? The fox one is a little sad for this time of night.” He hums thoughtfully. “Although, this entire anthology is a little on the emotional side.”

“Don’t care,” Laxus says, breathing out a long sigh as he noses into Freed’s thigh, getting comfortable against his mate’s body. “Read me a recipe book, or a magic tome, or a pamphlet on Hargeon tourism.” He slits an eye open and smiles at Freed. “I like the sound of your voice, darling.” Laxus punctuates his point by shooting a small bolt of lightning at the flickering light bulb, the flickering stopping instantly and the glow in the room becoming softer, more golden.

“Alright,” Freed whispers, ever-so-slightly pink. “This one is called ‘The Mouth Organ’.” He clears his throat, and Laxus resumes playing with Freed’s hair as Freed starts to read. “I am not happy standing here in front of the magnolia tree. I play my guitar and peer at my hat on the ground. There is not much money in it. Not much at all…”

Freed reads ‘The Mouth Organ’, and wipes Laxus’ tears – and his own – at the end when the musical instrument makes the tree bloom back to life. He reads one more at Laxus’ insistence, about a young girl raised in an isolated world of opposites. “Another?” he asks when Laxus once again stops him from closing the book. “My dear, you are going to turn into quite the bookworm at this rate.”

“Bullshit,” Laxus rumbles contentedly. “I told ya, I just like listening to the sound of your voice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaa, there we go! There will most definitely be more Fairy Tail works in this series as the year progresses, so I look forwards to seeing you then. Please leave comments and kudos!


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